


The Eternity of Bliss

by safarikalamari



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Fate & Destiny, Getting to Know Each Other, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic-Users, Major Character Injury, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Triss Merigold, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Rating For One Smut Scene, Slow Burn, Smut: Chapter 7, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25452661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safarikalamari/pseuds/safarikalamari
Summary: Jaskier has been living in the non-magical world for several years now, protecting it from anything that might sneak through the barrier that separates this place from the one he calls home.When clusters of monsters begin to appear, threatening both worlds, it's then Jaskier is assigned to partner up with Geralt, the best Hunter known on the continent, to clean up this mess.In an instant, Jaskier's life is turned on its head as he and Geralt deal with Destiny, deadly attacks, and falling in love.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 49
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter 1

Jaskier’s life was as normal as they came. 

A cushy office job, a number of acquaintances, and considering the economy, he was doing well for himself. 

The clacking of typewriters was a nice familiarity day to day, noisy car horns in the streets, and needing to wrap his trench coat around him when the wind blew. He was thankful that of all places to be assigned, it was right in the middle of London where he could have his days of excitement amongst the regimented schedule. 

It was one rather ordinary day when Jaskier was sitting at his desk, typing up the latest reports from management. One line in particular was giving him trouble and it was now his fourth time typing up this single page. Jaskier was about to give up when the sound akin to bursting flames caught his attention. 

Sneaking a glance around, Jaskier tugged his desk drawer open and flipped the cover of his star-studded notebook to the first page. 

_Come at once_ was all the message read and Jaskier checked the large grandfather clock at the front of the room. It was close enough to his lunch and he gave a friendly nod to the men in the desks around him as he tucked the notebook into his front pocket. Grabbing his hat and coat, Jaskier left before anyone could question.

Once in the busy streets, Jaskier kept his head down, hands in his pockets as he weaved through crowds. He glanced over his shoulder every so often before he took his next turn, eventually finding himself down a dingy alley. 

The door at the end was dilapidated, barely hanging on its hinges and mice scurried out from it. Placing his hand on the door, Jaskier muttered a single word, watching as his hand glowed. The door shifted, shuffling into place as the wood became speckled with gold, the frame around it molding back together. Taking a step back, Jaskier waited until the door swung open and he stepped inside to a grand entrance. 

Large steps descended before him, the upper floors above packed with people as they bustled to and fro. The ceiling arched high, a glass dome that allowed sunlight to pour in. Jaskier followed his path down the stairs, only interrupted by a group of fairies that flew past him. Frowning at the group, Jaskier continued on, past the department of Magical Mishaps where he could hear explosions from behind several doors. 

Down, down he went until at last he reached a gate guarded by two wolves. 

“Triss sent for me,” Jaskier told them and the wolves gave him a wary look before stepping aside. 

Opening the gate, Jaskier approached a table where a woman stood, several maps opening with the wave of her hand. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she examined them and she didn’t notice Jaskier until he cleared his throat. 

“Oh, Jaskier,” she smiled and waved the maps back onto the table. “Timely as always. Just waiting on your partner and then I’ll begin the debriefing.”

“Hello, Triss. Um, partner?” Jaskier asked, his heart jumping with nervous excitement. 

It had been a while since Jaskier was required to work with someone else. He was always happy to make a new friend, even if this was supposed to be just work.

The gate behind him opened and Jaskier froze when he recognized the face. This couldn’t be his partner, yet there was no one else trailing behind the man who walked in with an intimidating stride. He took off his hat, a nod as his greeting as he took his place next to Jaskier. Golden eyes bore into Jaskier for just a moment before he turned his attention away. 

“Geralt,” Triss acknowledged him before snapping her fingers and a trail of golden dust circled above the table. “We’ve had a breach in one of our borders.”

She swiped her hand across the dust, a map of London appearing with intricate accuracy. “Nothing too miserable got out, but there’s a lot and not much time to contain them. Jaskier is your Tracer.”

Jaskier smiled at Geralt, only getting a raised eyebrow in return. 

“Report back when you’ve cleared them out and we’ll check the city once more,” Triss continued on. 

Jaskier’s stomach turned and he slowly raised his hand. “Is the breach just in London?”

Triss sighed. “Unfortunately not. There’s been reports coming in from all over the world. We’re looking into it, but right now, it just seems like the usual case of overlooking.”

Nodding his understanding, Jaskier found himself having to catch up with Geralt as the man quickly stalked out of the room. Once they were back above ground and out of the building, Geralt led them into busier streets, stopping so suddenly that Jaskier crashed into him. 

“Sorry,” Jaskier mumbled, readjusting his coat and hat as he stood next to Geralt. “I must say it’s an honor to finally be working with you.”

“Is it?” Geralt spoke, harsh and low, his eyes darting about. 

“You’re the best Hunter there is, you’re legendary, Geralt,” Jaskier couldn’t help himself, recounting every story he ever heard about the man.

Geralt grunted, but didn’t stop Jaskier from jabbering on for the next few minutes. The man humored him, not interrupting once, and it was then Jaskier calmed his racing mind with a shy smile.

“So, are we just standing here then?” Jaskier collected himself. 

“I was waiting for you to start the Trace,” Geralt replied. His mouth had formed a thin line, yet his eyes shone with something kinder and Jaskier cleared his throat. 

“Right, of course.” 

Taking a breath, Jaskier focused the energy within him before he snapped his eyes open. To the common observer, Jaskier appeared to be staring at the crowd with heavy intent. However, only Geralt could see the blue flames bursting from his eyes, encapsulating even the whites. 

“Shipyard,” Jaskier nodded towards the water. “Looks like goblins.”

The two men quickly made their way to the docks, Jaskier keeping his Trace on in case the goblins started moving. Luckily, Geralt was at the advantage and he was quick to pounce on a couple, sending them back to the proper world with a golden portal he pulled from thin air. 

Jaskier kept his distance–having learned his lesson of staying out of a Hunter’s way–and observed the area, still thick with goblin residue. He followed a few trails, finding only dead ends and eventually headed back to where he had left Geralt. 

Then, a sharp jab hit him in the stomach and Jaskier turned to the source. Magic was spiking all around him, poking at his skin as Jaskier scratched at nothing. A warehouse loomed not too far from him, the darkness in the windows foreboding. With a swallow, Jaskier crept over to the warehouse, peering over the edge of a sill. White flashed before his eyes and Jaskier covered his mouth to stop his scream. His chest began heaving with panic as he ran to find Geralt, nearly tripping over the man, who was searching crates for any last goblins. 

“There’s something,” Jaskier gasped between breaths. “In that warehouse over there.”

Geralt’s head snapped up and he marched over to the warehouse, Jaskier trailing behind him. As they got closer, the stabbing sensation began again and Jaskier twitched in annoyance. Geralt threw open the door to the warehouse, nothing but darkness greeting them. 

“Stay here,” Geralt motioned, drawing a silver sword out from his coat. 

Jaskier had no intention of that. To identify the creature was necessary, for records, for Jaskier to be able to stop the invisible needles that jabbed at his skin. Rushing in after Geralt, Jaskier strained his eyes, the small patches of light providing hardly any at all. Wind rushed past his ears and Jaskier ducked just in time. Silver swiped over his head followed by a snarl from Geralt. Lifting his head, Jaskier caught flashes of a dark-haired woman, pale skin, caught in the flashes of sun that peeked through broken rafters. Her hands swung at Geralt, missing, but a breath away each time. 

Jaskier’s eyes blurred as his pain intensified, screams clawing at his ears. His legs wobbled, his body shifting as he reached out for something to grab onto. Then, a veil lifted and Jaskier could breathe again. All was quiet, too quiet, a shiver running down Jaskier’s spine.

Jaskier fidgeted, his attempt to call for Geralt caught in his throat. The darkness began to morph and Jaskier took a stumbling step back. Geralt emerged, covered in blood but otherwise unharmed. Hunters never did kill unless there was no other choice and the thought sat heavy in Jaskier’s mind. With a sigh, Jaskier let the flames in his eyes die down as he rushed to meet the man halfway.

“How the hell did a fucking bruxa get past the wards?” Geralt ground out.

Jaskier could only shrug, just thankful that Geralt was alive and well. He pulled them both out of the warehouse, breathing in when the sun hit his skin.

“Get Triss. She needs to hear about this.”

Nodding, Jaskier pulled out a small golden container and unlatched the cover, trails of magic springing into the air. Triss’s face soon appeared as the colored dust collected itself into her form. 

“What’s happened, Jaskier?” She frowned. She looked frazzled and almost miffed by Jaskier’s call. 

“Bruxa,” Geralt grabbed Jaskier’s hand to make the container face him. 

Triss’s eyes went wide before she ran a hand down her face. “I was afraid of that.”

The two men waited as she collected herself, poised to her professionalism. 

“I ask that the two of you remain together and find a secure place to stay for now.”

Jaskier nodded as Geralt grunted, seemingly upset about the situation. 

“We’ll find out what’s going on. Then you can have them all to yourself, Geralt,” Triss glared at him. 

With that, she blinked out from the dust and the container snapped shut. 

“I should probably quit my office job then,” Jaskier commented as he put the container back in his coat pocket. 

“For the best,” Geralt agreed. “Come with me.”

A portal, once again laced in gold, opened in front of them and before Jaskier could protest, Geralt had taken hold of his arm, dragging him into the portal. Jaskier stumbled when they landed on a cobblestone street, a wave of nausea hitting him, yet Geralt gave him no time to recover. Long rows of buildings sat on either side of them and Geralt finally pulled them towards a black door, placing his hand on it. The door swung open allowing the two men in before it shut firmly behind them. Up a set of stairs, it was then there was one more door until Jaskier found himself in the middle of a living room. 

“My safehouse,” Geralt explained as he flicked his hand. 

Piles organized themselves as curtains shut and furniture rearranged. Geralt went around the room, murmuring a few more words, symbols shining in the air before dissolving. 

“Smart,” Jaskier finally spoke. “What will become of my flat?”

Geralt turned to him, holding his hands out for Jaskier’s coat and hat. “We’ll sort that out later.”

It wasn’t a comforting thought, but Jaskier couldn’t protest. After all, Geralt had brought him to a secret hideaway with no questions asked. After their coats and hats were hung up, Jaskier walked around the place, observing the kitchen and then the hallway that presumably led to a bathroom and bedrooms. He couldn’t help run a finger along a shelf, grimacing at the dust that coated his finger. 

“Bedroom on the left can be yours,” Geralt called from the living room. 

“Thank you,” Jaskier replied, then searching about the kitchen. 

He took off his suit coat, draping it on a nearby chair, and unbuttoned his vest, finding the atmosphere just a tad stuffy. Things clearly hadn’t been moved in a while and Jaskier tapped his fingers on the counter, letting his magic take over. A teapot flew past his head, filling up in the sink before settling on the gas stove, blue wisps swirling around the steam. Jaskier leaned against the counter once a towel wiped it off and stared at the fixtures and wallpaper. It was too modern for his tastes. He missed his cottage in the other world, the simple stonework and fireplace. 

While the non-magic world was getting along fine with their inventions, Jaskier could never get used to the horseless carriages and the dullness of telegrams. Non-magical folk just seemed to want more and more, never happy with what they had already. However, Jaskier could only critique from the sidelines, content with the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to stay in this world forever.

The kettle was soon boiling and Jaskier prepared two cups of tea for Geralt and himself. Not wanting to disturb the other man, Jaskier sent Geralt’s cup floating into the other room while he settled down at the kitchen table. 

As he took his first sip, Geralt appeared in the doorway with his cup in hand. He had taken off his suit coat as well, tie loosened, but still hanging around his neck. The blood on him had been vanquished, leaving clean, yet wrinkled clothing behind. 

“Thank you. You know my kitchen better than me.”

Jaskier laughed a little at this, resting his head in his hand. “The magic helps. Tell me, Geralt, did you always want to be a Hunter?”

Geralt pulled out a chair and sat diagonal to Jaskier, his expression neutral. “I didn’t really have a choice. What with my lineage and all...”

The family of Rivia was well-renowned for their Hunters, so much so that Jaskier had grown up on stories about them. It had been his dream to one day work with someone from the family and now he had finally gotten his chance. 

“What about you?” Geralt interrupted Jaskier’s thoughts. 

With a small grin, Jaskier sat back in his chair. “I was too restless to be a Healer. Tracing just works best for me. I get action but with how clumsy I can be with weapons, I don’t have to take that additional risk.”

The two drifted into silence, regarding each other over their cups of tea. Jaskier couldn’t help but study Geralt when the man wasn’t looking. How stern his face was, but he was an expression of calm as they sat together. For just a little while, Jaskier forgot that he was supposed to be in hiding and rather, that he was just spending a nice afternoon with Geralt. 

“Are you always this happy?”

Jaskier laughed. “I try to be. Oh, I can be serious when the situation calls for it, but why deny when my heart feels light?”

Geralt let out a small hum, his eyes flickering away from Jaskier. There seemed to be the faintest trace of a smile on his face and Jaskier was sure it was one of the most beautiful things he had seen all day. 

“Well,” Jaskier cleared his throat. “Any house rules I should be aware of? Pet peeves?”

“Just pick up after yourself,” Geralt mused over the rim of his cup. 

Jaskier couldn’t help the laugh that left him. “You know, Geralt, I think this is the start of something exciting. If only all flatmates could be like you.”

“You wouldn’t want that,” Geralt teased back. “I’m insufferable once you get to know me.”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Drinking the last of his tea, Jaskier set to cleaning up the small pile of dishes that had accumulated in Geralt’s sink. 

He started humming as he rolled up his sleeves, flicking his wrist to levitate the soap and washcloth. 

“I can do my own dishes,” Geralt was suddenly beside him. 

“Well, today I’m doing them. I believe you’ve got some piles in the living room to sort through, so you go and do that.”

“Are you my housekeeper now?” Geralt retorted.

“I should hope not,” Jaskier laughed. “But since I’m living with you for the time being, we should split the chores.”

“You’re my guest.”

“And this guest wants to do the dishes.”

Geralt pursed his lips but fought no further, leaving the room to let Jaskier do as he pleased. Delighted with his win, Jaskier finished the dishes before conjuring more magic to organize and scrub down the entire kitchen. Time was forgotten and it was after sundown when Jaskier had finished. When Geralt re-entered the kitchen, he froze in the doorway, his eyes darting about. 

“Got a little carried away,” Jaskier gave a sheepish smile. 

“It’s...nice.”

“Oh, look,” Jaskier threw open a cupboard. “There wasn’t any real system here so I put the mugs on this shelf and plates on this one. Bowls and saucers are here.”

Jaskier continued to show Geralt his new kitchen, receiving only hums and grunts in return. Geralt took to it all quickly and when dinner came around, he proved that he did indeed listen to Jaskier’s every word. 

Despite the day’s events, Jaskier was starting to feel at home and he could only hope in time that Geralt would become a very dear friend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happenstances and the process of becoming flatmates

A few days passed with seldom a word from Headquarters. 

All Geralt and Jaskier could do was wait, but Jaskier was quickly getting bored. On occasion, he’d pull back the curtains and Trace the area, hoping for some magical trails to appear but either there was nothing to be seen or Geralt snapped the curtains shut in his face. 

“The curtains are part of our protection,” he reminded Jaskier. “Keep them open too long and anything could detect us.”

Jaskier glared at him, the blue flames from his eyes flaring momentarily. Geralt only grunted in return, casting another sigil on the curtain before he went back to his paperwork. Knowing better than to fight his host, Jaskier went to his bedroom, once again scanning the bookshelf for anything enjoyable to read. 

It seemed that the room Geralt had given to Jaskier was more storage than a place to sleep. Jaskier had climbed over dozens of boxes to get to his bed the first night, greeted by a cloud of dust when he sat down on the mattress. With a few waves of his hand, Jaskier had made the room liveable again and he did his best to not invade Geralt’s privacy, despite his curiosity to dig through everything.

Grabbing a bestiary and a collection of fairy tales from the bookshelf, Jaskier went back to the living room, settling on the couch. 

The shuffling of papers and the occasional scratching of Geralt’s fountain pen relaxed Jaskier as he opened up one of the books, noting the worn pages, the small notes scribbled in the margins. Geralt was as studious as he was skilled with his weapons and Jaskier found himself admiring the man, the little things he noticed about the creatures of their world, the biology that fascinated him. Jaskier was soon lost in the pages, somehow learning something new each time despite seeing these creatures all his life. 

Time didn’t exist as the two men adjusted in the shared space, the silence that had started out awkward now having turned into something comfortable. Once in a while, Jaskier would look up at Geralt only to find the man already looking at him and the two would immediately turn their attention back to their studies. Jaskier smiled to himself, if only because it was rather amusing. The stoic Geralt unable to look him in the eye. 

It was then that there was the sound of crackling and Jaskier whipped his head up, rushing to find his notebook. Geralt dug into his coat pockets as well, urgency and excitement filling the room. There was a message from Triss, a hastily written _Meeting at noon_ on the page. 

The two men looked up at each other and then pulled out their pocket watches, noting the time. 

“I’ll portal us there,” Geralt said as he put his watch away. 

Jaskier nodded his understanding before grabbing his and Geralt’s coats and hats from the stand. Once the two were bundled up, Geralt led them out of the flat and down the street before he cast a portal spell. 

Once again, Jaskier was overcome by nausea and he grasped onto the alley wall for balance as Geralt used his magic on the familiar broken door. 

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Jaskier was feeling much better despite the people that crowded the way to the stairs. All kinds had been called in from elves to druids and Jaskier could barely keep track of Geralt as he led them to the meeting hall. 

The circular room they entered had benches ascending from the center where a podium sat, a stained glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Each level of benches was higher than the one before it, the last set nearly touching the trim that lined where the walls met the top of the room. Jaskier followed Geralt to a spot right in the middle, the two of them some of the first to be seated.

Eventually, others began to trickle in, some Jaskier recognized, a few unfamiliar faces only looking in his direction to give a nod to Geralt. Jaskier figured he’d have to ask Geralt about his relations later, more in awe over how many people he had never come across in his time of being a Tracer. Every seat was filled, indiscernible chatter filling the space around them as they waited for the meeting to start. Jaskier thought to small talk with Geralt but with the stern stare on Geralt’s face, Jaskier stayed quiet. 

Yennefer of Vengerberg entered the room then and silence was immediate. Jaskier held his breath, anticipation rising as she observed everyone with a sharp stare. Her gaze stayed on him and Geralt a beat too long, but Jaskier didn’t dare look at Geralt and risk breaking the stillness. 

Yennefer took her spot in the center of the room, Triss trailing in shortly after, and cleared her throat to get the attention that was already on her. 

“Something from our realm is releasing creatures into the non-magical world,” her voice echoed. “Perhaps as a distraction, perhaps something beyond all of us. All we can do now is take care of the creatures and hope we find out who or what is doing this.”

The room was filled with low murmurs. Jaskier spared a glance towards Geralt, whose face was unreadable as ever. 

“If you have a partner already you will stay with them and we will assign you sectors,” Triss spoke up then. “Otherwise, please come to us if you are by yourself once the meeting is through.”

A cacophonous mixture overtook the room then and it took Yennefer casting a spell on herself before booming, “NEXT ORDER OF BUSINESS,” to quiet everyone down. 

Jaskier had somehow kept his composure through all of this, forcing down the smile that wanted so desperately to spread on his face. Despite the imminent threat, Jaskier was happy to still be assigned with Geralt. He barely listened to what Yennefer said next, just usual updates, complaints, and the like. 

When at last the meeting was over, many rushed out of the room, but Geralt didn’t and so then, neither did Jaskier. Instead, he watched as Geralt and Yennefer stared at each other, as if communicating telepathically. Jaskier shifted, wanting to know what the two were up to, as well as curious to just how much history Geralt and Yennefer had. While he was one to gossip, he never heard about Geralt’s relationships. Maybe he had just ignored it because of his admiration for the man or he was lucky to avoid such drama. Whatever it was, Jaskier was stuck in his own thoughts until Geralt suddenly got to his feet. 

Scrambling after him, Jaskier spared a look back at the center of the room to see Yennefer give him a singular nod. Any reasonable response was gone from Jaskier’s mind and he caught up with Geralt until they were out of the building and back into the dirty alley. 

“You know Yennefer well?” Jaskier asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Geralt nodded. “Triss too. I had been with them at one time or another.”

“Oh...with them as in…?”

The look on Geralt’s face said it all and Jaskier knew not to press any further. He tucked his hands in his pockets, glancing at Geralt every so often as they walked to an unknown destination. 

“We’re not going home?” 

“Thought we could get some food,” Geralt said off-handedly. “Since we may be stuck inside for some time.”

Jaskier hadn’t even thought of that. He continued to follow Geralt into a small market and helped the man pick out vegetables and fruits. 

“Could we get some strawberries?” Jaskier came to a halt, beckoned by the ruby red of the fruits.

“Get what you want, I don’t mind.”

With a delighted grin, Jaskier was soon indulging himself in anything that caught his eye. Of course, he made sure to check with Geralt, to make sure he wasn’t overspending, but Geralt didn’t seem to mind. He paid for the items without question and soon the two were portaling back to Geralt’s safehouse. 

Once they were in the flat, Geralt’s magic was quick to put the food away, graciously taking coats and hats as well before Jaskier flopped down on the couch. 

“What do you think about this whole mess?”

“Not sure yet,” Geralt admitted. “I want to say we can handle it, but something tells me it won’t be so easy.”

“What was the worst you had to deal with on the continent?”

Jaskier knew the stories of Geralt by heart, but now that he had the man here in front of him, he could find out the overlooked details.

“Depends on what you consider the worst,” Geralt shrugged. “A dragon is no easy feat but then, I’d rather not have to deal with a dozen drowners all at once again.”

Jaskier winced at this. He had his fair run-in with creatures of all sorts, but his assigned Hunter took care of them. Once he was no longer needed, Jaskier was allowed to leave, to get out of harm’s way. He wasn’t sure what use he’d be if he were to switch places with Geralt. 

“What about you?” Geralt shook Jaskier from his thoughts. “What kinds of things do you do back home?”

“Oh, uh,” Jaskier blushed a little. “Nothing grandiose like you. I study academics, play music. I’m just nothing more than a humble bard.”

“No shame in that. The world would be dull without the arts.”

Jaskier hadn’t expected such a compliment from Geralt. It repeated itself at the back of his mind until a giddy smile spread on Jaskier’s face.

“That’s true. If only others thought the same as you. Perhaps I would’ve been happy without becoming a Tracer.”

“Were you forced into it?” Geralt frowned.

“Oh, heavens no. I do like our work, but there are days when I just want to sit in a meadow, doing nothing but writing songs, playing my lute.”

Geralt nodded, a small smile gracing his face. “Back home, I have a horse. Roach is her name. We traveled all around the continent together. I promised her that once my days of working are over, we could retire on a small farm.”

“Geralt of Rivia on a farm?” Jaskier couldn’t help tease. “Now there’s a song. I shall have to write that down.”

There was a small laugh then before Geralt disappeared into the kitchen. While Jaskier was quite relaxed on the couch, he couldn’t help but want to follow Geralt and so he did, sitting down at the small table and watching Geralt conjure up different spells in the kitchen. 

“What age did your color show?” Jaskier watched the golden wisps scatter throughout the cupboards. 

“Hm. I think I was six.”

“That young?” Jaskier gaped. “Goodness, I feel silly now. Mine didn’t show up until I was thirteen.”

“They pushed magic on me from an early age,” Geralt leaned against the counter and faced Jaskier. “If I hadn’t gotten my color then, I don’t think I ever would have.”

Jaskier rolled this thought around his head, wondering how rough Geralt’s childhood must have been. He himself had been lucky. While magic was important in his family, he had been given time to work his spells. With a flick of his hand, a small blue butterfly appeared on Jaskier’s hand and he sent it over to Geralt with a small puff. 

Geralt caught it in his hands, cradling the magic as he created a golden flower for it to sit on. 

“Oh, glad that worked! Most people just wave it away until it becomes dust.”

Jaskier blushed at his sudden honesty. For some reason, it was easy to be himself around Geralt, to open up like he never had before. 

“They don’t know what they’re missing then.”

Glancing up, Jaskier watched as Geralt created a small magical bush on the counter for the butterfly to nest in. While the magic would fade in a few hours, it was a picture to behold and Jaskier couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

The conversation then remained light as Geralt prepared dinner for them both, a simple meal of vegetables and meat, but delicious all the same. It reminded Jaskier of a meal he once had while traveling back home and he relished in the warm memory. 

Again, he and Geralt fell into comfortable silence and Jaskier found himself not minding in the slightest. It was good to have companionship such as this and after the meal, Jaskeir was reluctant to go to his bedroom. He wanted to spend more time with Geralt but eventually exhaustion took over and Jaskier finally crawled into bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt take care of each other
> 
> (Please read the Notes at the beginning for Warnings)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible CW for: PTSD, Major Character Injury, Mild Depictions of Blood

Jaskier’s skin was burning. 

No matter how much he moved, the sensation of hot metal seared his skin and his vision went white. Jaskier blindly reached out for anything to grab on to as his legs buckled underneath him, fatigue taking over his body. He could barely crawl as the pain sunk to his bones and he gasped for air, a tightness constricting around his throat as he thrashed his head around. 

Sitting straight up, Jaskier stared wide-eyed into the darkness, his chest heaving. His anxiety grew as he didn’t recognize where he was and he gripped onto his hair, muttering to himself to calm down. With a few deep breaths, Jaskier was able to think past his racing heart and the memories of the past few days came back to him. 

He swallowed thickly and threw the blankets back, letting out a sigh of relief when he could stand without any trouble. Feeling through the darkness, Jaskier found his way to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water with trembling hands. A creak caught his ear and he whipped towards the noise, hand outstretched, spell already cast. 

The spell dissolved and there stood Geralt with a shimmering barrier in front of him. It faded away as Geralt lowered his hand, watching Jaskier with concern. 

“It’s just me, Jaskier.”

With a shaky breath, Jaskier lowered his hand and ran a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. Bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Not wanting to look at Geralt, Jaskier let his gaze wander and he saw the fire in the living room, still going strong with magic. With a small shrug, Jaskier headed to the couch, sitting down as he stared into the flames. He wanted them to engulf him, to make him feel nothing but ash. His gaze didn’t falter, not even when the couch sank next to him. 

“I was tortured in Nilfgaard,” Jaskier began, his hands wringing together. “Beat up by bandits. Maimed by all sorts really. Everyone told me I brought too much attention to myself, but that was when I was happiest.”

Geralt said nothing, but Jaskier could feel his eyes on him nonetheless and he found the courage to keep talking. 

“There was one time my hands were broken so badly, I couldn’t play my lute for months. Even my singing couldn’t bring me joy at that point.”

The memories stung and Jaskier winced as a particularly harsh one invaded his mind. He ran his hand through his hair, a shaky breath leaving him. 

“My family encouraged me to get into this line of work, figuring I’d be safer in this world, but it doesn’t stop the pain.”

“You have a strong heart,” Geralt spoke at last. 

Jaskier blinked before he looked at the man, a shiver running down his spine. It was as if Geralt could see into his very soul, wanting to reach in and take away the scars that sat there. 

“I hope so,” Jaskier breathed. 

Tipping his head back, Jaskier stared at the ceiling, letting his mind go blank. He watched the shadows that flickered around him, creating an alarming sense of calm. Jaskier could feel himself within those shadows, the inner parts of him being twisted between dark and light.

When he finally looked at Geralt, he wasn’t shocked at all to see the man staring back at him. In fact, his heart soared with the unfamiliarity of being seen.

“I’ll be fine come morning. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Whatever you need, I’m here.”

There was such sincerity in Geralt’s words that Jaskier couldn’t help believe him. With a nod, Jaskier got to his feet and headed back to his bedroom, listening for Geralt’s steps behind him. Just as he reached his door, Jaskier turned back to Geralt, opening his mouth to say something more.

His thoughts collided together, words making no sense in his mind until all that came out was a small, “Good night.”

Geralt said his goodnight as well, waiting until Jaskier went into his room before heading to his own. 

As soon as Jaskier fell on the bed, he drifted off, with only the thought of Geralt on his mind.

* * *

When Jaskier woke the next morning, he was greeted by sunlight pouring into his room. 

Blinking away the sleep, Jaskier yawned before sitting up in his bed. He sniffed as he remembered the night before, a slight rush of embarrassment painting his cheeks. It never was a walk in the park when his emotions got the best of him, but more than that, Geralt’s quiet understanding had been a comfort Jaskier didn’t know he had been missing. He only hoped this wouldn’t make things awkward between them. Rather, if last night had brought them closer, Jaskier found his heart clenching at the thought. 

Shaking his head with a small smile, Jaskier checked his star-studded notebook for any updates from the council. There had been no new meetings, but a sector had been assigned to Geralt and himself. It was in the dead center of the city, a spot that never had activity due to the amount of people bustling back and forth. This worried Jaskier and he rushed into the kitchen to see Geralt sitting at the table, dressed and ready. 

“Do we know what’s there?” Jaskier assumed Geralt had already read the message. 

“Triss doesn’t know,” Geralt answered, his mind clearly in the stages of planning. “My guess is alghouls.”

“Alghouls?”

Jaskier then rushed from the room, throwing on his clothes and sprinting back to the kitchen. “Best be on our way then.”

Geralt stared at him with slightly widening eyes before getting to his feet, grabbing their coats and hats. 

Having to portal a few streets away to keep a low profile, Jaskier and Geralt were then forced to push through the crowd of people just getting from one place to another. Jaskier could barely use his Trace, breaking from Geralt to find higher ground. Once he secured a spot away from the busy streets, Jaskier took his chance and scanned for what awaited them. 

“Oh, shit,” he mumbled to himself, spotting several creatures crawling down the sides of buildings. 

It was a swarm and Jaskier could only watch as Geralt cast his glamour spell and took off towards the buildings. With a deep breath, Jaskier held out his hand, spreading a protective barrier over the crowd. It shimmered above their heads, invisible to all except magic users like himself and Geralt. The commotion of bricks falling caused Jaskier to wince but the non-magical folk didn’t notice a thing as debris burned up the instant it touched the barrier. It was only Jaskier who got a few odd looks as he was hanging onto a lamppost, trying to keep an eye on Geralt and the alghouls as he kept the barrier up. 

The first few alghouls went down easily, but when the swarm realized they were being attacked, all their focus turned to Geralt. 

“Geralt!” Jaskier yelled to warn him, now not caring who heard. 

Geralt reacted with lightning reflexes, bounding between buildings, slicing at what he couldn’t portal back. Everything was moving too fast and Jaskier’s shouts were caught in his throat when he lost sight of Geralt. 

He whipped his head around, searching for the man, but all had gone quiet. Then, an earth-shaking screech filled the area as a dark cloud spilled into the air. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished and Geralt landed with a heavy thud near Jaskier. 

“Oh, thank the gods,” Jaskier jumped down from the lamppost and helped Geralt to his feet. 

The spells were wearing off and non-magical folk continued on as nothing had happened. 

“Are you alright?”

Managing to drag them to a side alley, Jaskier glanced over Geralt’s body, but saw no blood. 

“Just a few hard blows,” Geralt coughed. “I’ll be healed up in an hour or so.”

With a sigh of relief, Jaskier patted Geralt’s shoulder and the two caught their breaths, confusion swarming between them. 

“Triss?” Jaskier asked as he pulled out his container.

“Triss,” Geralt agreed. 

Calling Triss through the container, Jaskier stood next to Geralt as she appeared in the golden dust. It didn’t help that all three faces held concern, but the hope was that this would bring them closer to answers.

“What was it?” she asked immediately.

Jaskier explained everything, heart dropping when Triss’s frown did not cease. 

“There’s been several injuries today. Nothing fatal, but we’re being overwhelmed. Yennefer is back in our world trying to figure this out. It’s all I can say on the matter for now.”

Geralt grunted his disapproval, but neither man was able to make a responding comment before the container snapped closed. 

“Fuck,” Jaskier sighed, resting his forehead on Geralt’s shoulder. “I came here to relax a bit, not fight monsters at every turn.”

“Comes with the job,” Geralt grumbled, shifting his shoulder a bit. 

“Oh, sorry,” Jaskier was quick to lift his head. 

He forgot Geralt wasn’t an old friend used to Jaskier’s affections. With a blush, Jaskier shuffled away, looking everywhere but at Geralt as the man opened up a portal. In the safety of their flat, it was then Geralt fell to his knees, his breathing short and ragged. 

“Geralt?” Jaskier rushed over to him, holding the man’s head in his hands. 

Geralt coughed then, a small bit of blood dribbling out of his mouth. “It’s fine,” he rasped. “Just need to lie down.”

Jaskier opened his mouth to argue further and then thought better of it. Geralt surely knew his own body better than Jaskier. Helping him to his feet, Jaskier guided Geralt to the bedroom, helping him lay down on the bed. There was another harsh cough, Geralt curling up in pain. 

“Is there nothing I can do?” 

Jaskier summoned a glass of water into the room and he sat on the bed, easing Geralt to sit up. 

Geralt drank greedily, the water gone within seconds. “Just let me rest.”

There was only reluctance in Jaskier’s mind and he reached out, undoing the buttons of Geralt’s vest. Geralt moved to stop him, but Jaskier was quicker in pinning one of Geralt’s hands down. 

“At least let me help you get your vest and tie off. You’ll be more comfortable.”

There was no argument, but Jaskier could sense Geralt’s hesitation as Jaskier worked off the items in question. With a squeeze to Geralt’s arm, Jaskier laid the clothing on a nearby chair and then headed towards the bedroom door. 

“Call if you need anything,” Jaskier said passively over his shoulder.

The door shut with a firm click behind him and Jaskier soon found his own tie was too tight. He all but ripped it from his neck, a shuddered breath leaving him as he stumbled to his room. He had seen worse, endured torture no one ever should, but today left him tired, constricted. Laying down on his bed, Jaskier let his thoughts fade into nothing, if only to give his emotions some rest. 

It was a few hours later when Jaskier woke from his nap. 

Jumping up from the bed, Jaskier rushed to Geralt’s room and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the man sleeping peacefully. Noting the dried blood on his face, Jaskier fetched a washcloth and snuck into the room, sitting down on the bed. He froze when the mattress shifted but Geralt remained asleep to his relief. Slowly, Jaskier reached out, one hand barely cupping Geralt’s face as he washed away the blood. It came off easily and when Jaskier took back his hands that was when Geralt opened his eyes. 

“Oh,” Jaskier looked away. “Your face...the blood, well, you were asleep and–”

“–Thank you,” Geralt cut Jaskier off. 

Jaskier looked for the sarcasm, the coldness, but there was none to be found and Jaskier gave Geralt a smile. He felt appreciated, that his efforts were actually worth something.

“I’ll go make you some tea,” Jaskier spoke suddenly, his heart beating wildly in his chest. 

Without waiting for Geralt’s reply, Jaskier disappeared, regaining his breath once in the safety of another room. Why his heart had decided to feel this way all of a sudden was dizzying. Perhaps it was Geralt’s gruff, yet gentle demeanor, or maybe it was just that for the first time in a while, Jaskier felt that he was needed.

Whatever it was, Jaskier figured he’d take care of the problem later and he set the kettle on the stove, his heart full with the thought that he may have found his home at last.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions rise as a threat looms closer

The very next day, Jaskier and Geralt were summoned by the council. 

It came as no surprise after all that had happened, but this many meetings in such a short amount of time was not comforting. Jaskier just wanted answers. Surely, everyone did. If it was to be that difficult, he saw little sense in staying in this world that only led to more confusion. 

Jaskier and Geralt’s journey to the meeting was quiet and as they sat on one of the benches in the auditorium, Jaskier fidgeted. How Geralt could just sit still, be a stone statue, was beyond him. Jaskier kept unbuttoning his coat, shrugging it on and off as he muddled with his indecisive state. When others finally began to appear, Jaskier’s mind began to slow down and he settled on taking his hat off, running his fingers along the coarse fabric.

When the auditorium filled to the brim, everyone waited with bated breaths, the only sound the footsteps of Triss and Yennefer entering the room. Yennefer’s voice did not come right away and fear was washed on her face.

“It’s an ancient spirit, one that hasn’t been seen for millennia. I believe it’s looking for a host,” Yennefer spoke to the room. 

She seemed to make eye contact with everyone as she turned, sending a shiver down Jaskier’s spine. 

“Once it finds the host that means...the end of the world,” Yennefer stated simply. “Both this one and ours.”

There was an outcry, murmurs of fear and one person yelled above the din. 

“How can we stop it?”

Yennefer looked at her hands before facing the crow again. “Vanquish it before it gets a host. Otherwise, the fight will be that much harder.”

“Easier said than done,” Geralt muttered.

The room was filled with anger, unease and nothing Triss or Yennefer said could stop it. Some hurled their insults and Jaskier could only watch, not wanting to add to the chaos. Geralt stood then and the room began to quiet as the man made his way to the center. There was an exchange between Geralt and Yennefer, her response simply an uneasy stare before Geralt addressed the room. 

“Go on back to our world then. Scout out the spirit and destroy it. That shouldn’t be hard for many of you. If you do happen to fail, we’ll just have to face it in this world. We will stop this.”

Seeing that arguing was a losing battle, many nodded their respects to Geralt.

“Typical,” Yennefer spoke under her breath. “Always listening to a man.”

“I just got them to shut up. What I said was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” Geralt then let the room know as much.

Apologies then came back to Yennefer and Triss which the two waved off to let the others know exactly where they sat. 

“If we have any more disagreements, it will be taken to the High Court,” Triss warned the room. 

With a few final notes, the meeting was then over and Jaskier was sitting alone, watching Triss, Yennefer, and Geralt discuss quietly amongst themselves. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to listen in, not until Yennefer looked at him and waved him down. 

Stumbling across the benches, Jaskier reached the three at last, feeling very small amongst those with so much power. 

“Keep a leash on your dog,” Yennefer spoke to Jaskier.

Despite the threatening tone, there was a hint of teasing on the edges. Jaskier gave a nervous laugh as Geralt glared at Yennefer, which she returned with a sweet smile. It was only when Geralt began to smile as well that Jaskier finally relaxed.

“Anyway,” Triss interrupted. “We’re keeping you two here. We’ve got strong enough recruits to send to our world. We need you here to keep things in check..and for the worst case scenario.”

Geralt nodded, as if he expected as much and Jaskier followed his lead. As they walked up the steps, Jaskier paused, his mind swarming with questions. 

“What?” Geralt asked when he finally noticed Jaskier wasn’t beside him. 

“I don’t know,” Jaskier admitted. “I have so much to ask, but I’m not sure where to start, if I can even ask in the first place.”

Geralt motioned and Jaskier took a breath. 

“Why wouldn’t they send you? You’re the strongest Hunter. You would guarantee the spirit’s death.”

“It’s not about strength. They said I’m needed here.”

“Are you okay with that?” 

“Of course not. I’d rather be back in our world,” Geralt bit. “But Yennefer and Triss have given me no choice.”

Jaskier frowned. The council wasn’t to blame, but as strong of a Hunter Geralt was, he was still trapped in the whims and demands of an institution. A small frustration burrowed itself in Jaskier’s mind and he huffed.

“Does this happen often?”

Geralt gave a stiff nod, looking away. Jaskier could tell he was getting on Geralt’s nerves, but he still didn’t understand. 

“How could they miss this? The High Court is supposed to be made of the wisest of us.” 

“Sometimes they can’t see past the end of their noses,” Geralt frowned. “Makes things harder for the rest of us. Are you quite finished?”

Jaskier nodded, though he really wasn’t. Geralt seemed to be hiding more and Jaskier didn’t want to be left in the dark, especially since they were partners in all of this. 

Going home was silent and even dinner was a frigid affair. Jaskier could barely look Geralt in the eye, slinking past him if they met up in the same part of the room. He didn’t like this, the other persona Geralt put on. If it was a way of protection, Jaskier thought it was an awful one at that. 

He’d need to get more out of Geralt, but how was another matter entirely. All he could do now was focus on the tasks at hand and hope he wouldn’t end up dead by the end of this whole mess.

* * *

Attitudes had improved within a few days. 

Jaskier found there was no use in sulking and Geralt began to chat again, a sign he was in better spirits. There hadn’t been new assignments either, giving the two men a chance to rest from the last incident. 

Of course, the peace wouldn’t last for long.

“Sector 4. There’s a large spike of magic there.”

Jaskier nodded at Triss as he and Geralt sprinted down the street. Snapping the container shut, Jaskier then set his Trace, his breath almost leaving him at the magic that smashed into him. 

“It’s big, Geralt,” Jaskier swallowed. “Really big.”

Geralt already had his sword drawn, waiting for Jaskier’s instructions.

“I don’t see it yet, but I can feel it everywhere,” Jaskier frowned. 

The flames in his eyes flashed, no matter what direction he looked and that was when they felt the tremor. 

“Oh no,” Jaskier’s heart sank. 

Another tremor threw the two men off their feet and debris crashed around them. Jaskier shielded his face but when he drew his arm back, he froze at the sight before him.

“Um, Geralt?” Jaskier swallowed as the centipede towered above them.

“Jaskier, get back!”

Scrambling out of the way, Jaskier watched in awe as Geralt cast out a spell, immobilizing the centipede in its place. His sword sliced at the underbelly until the spell wore off, the centipede disappearing back into the earth. 

Inhaling sharply, Jaskier tried to find the centipede, where it was headed next. His senses began to blur, as if the centipede itself was sucking energy from Jaskier. Gold and blue melded together, Jaskier’s chest constricting as the magic overwhelmed him.

“Geralt,” Jaskier gasped, stumbling as he grabbed onto his head. 

The ground rumbled and Jaskier was useless as he flew back, barely having enough strength to protect himself from a large chunk of pavement that fell on him. The screams of the centipede hit his ears and Jaskier forced his head up to watch as Geralt repeated the process. Immobilization spell, swipes and stabs at the underbelly that began to spew black liquid. The centipede swayed back and forth as Geralt continued his onslaught and with a shriek, the centipede froze.

With the break of magic, Jaskier heaved as his senses shot back and he scrambled to his feet, body shaking. Geralt rolled out of the way as the centipede came crashing down, shaking the earth one final time. Swallowing down his fear, Jaskier ran over to Geralt, helping him to his feet despite his own fatigue taking over.

The centipede carcass dissolved then, the remains swept up in a passing breeze. The foliage around them merged itself back together, appearing untouched from the battle that took place. 

“Just a centipede,” Geralt patted Jaskier’s arm. 

Geralt’s calm demeanor was in no way reassuring, not with such a large monster that had somehow gotten through the barrier. It may have just been another ordinary day for Geralt, but for Jaskier, his anxiety was only increasing by the second. Geralt must have felt the spike of magic, must have lost some strength like Jaskier had. Hiding the fact wasn’t going to help either of them.

“ ‘Just a centipede’?” Jaskier repeated back, arm flying out and eyes wide. “Next you’ll say it’s just a drowner, just a kikimora. Geralt, this is even worse than before. I couldn’t do a damn thing as you fought!”

Geralt grunted, opening up a portal and stepping through it without checking to see if Jaskier was following. 

“Now just you wait, Geralt!” Jaskier jumped in after him. 

He took a moment to catch his breath as he landed on a new street behind Geralt, his legs wobbling. 

“Fuck, what is wrong with your portals?”

“Nothing.”

“Anyway, as I was saying, things are getting worse. What will you do when there’s a creature you won’t be able to defeat?” Jaskier continued with his tirade, arms wildly flinging about.

Geralt stopped in his tracks and spun sharply around to face Jaskier. 

“There is nothing I can’t destroy,” he spoke dangerously low. “There’s a reason I’m the best.”

Anger boiled in Jaskier’s heart and he stood defiant against Geralt’s hardened stare. “That’s exactly what will get you killed. You’re not immortal, Geralt.”

“Oh, and you are?” Geralt jabbed back. 

“That’s not the point,” Jaskier raised his voice. “I’m concerned for you! For our world and this one. I don’t want the fate of everyone crumbling because you’re too proud to admit you have weaknesses!”

Geralt’s jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. “Better to ignore my weaknesses than be consumed by them.”

Jaskier’s heart dropped and his blood ran cold. “How dare you,” he breathed before shoving Geralt. “How dare you! You selfish, thick-headed bastard! You don’t get to use my past against me, not when I trusted you!”

There was no reply, but Jaskier didn’t want one. 

“Take us home. It’s the least you can do,” Jaskier muttered. 

Without a word, Geralt headed down the street and Jaskier trailed behind him. His eyes burned, tears threatening to come forth, but he didn’t want to give Geralt that satisfaction. Once they were in the flat, Jaskier all but ran to his bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. 

Geralt had no right to treat him that way, not after what they had been through, what they were bound to go through. All he wanted was their safety and that shouldn’t have been too much to ask. Throwing himself down on the bed with a huff, Jaskier crossed his arms, muttering under his breath. 

He closed his eyes, heavy breaths leaving him until his mind calmed down just a little. He was still very angry, but now he was able to look at the situation at hand. He supposed he had pushed Geralt to an uncomfortable edge and that was why the man lashed out. Now, Jaskier was filled with guilt. They had both been charged with emotions, the situation sticky. Their only outlet was each other. Jaskier had to apologize for his actions as well and he sat up, collecting his courage.

The door to his room opened just a crack then and a teacup floated in, followed by a plate filled with hot food. Jaskier let the items settle on his bedside table before he turned back to the door. Geralt had pushed it open and he shifted on his feet, refusing to meet Jaskier’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have beaten you down like that. You’re right. I am selfish and after all these years I’m still learning how to be kind. I understand if you don’t wish to accept my apology, but please know I mean everything I’m telling you right now. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

From Geralt’s apology to the true sincerity in his voice, Jaskier was in a cloud of confusion. A part of him was ready to forgive, for them to go back to how they were, while another wanted to slam the door in Geralt’s face. Geralt’s gaze landed on him for just a moment and Jaskier took a breath. 

“You are kind, Geralt. Emotions get the best of us, even I’m not above all that. I must apologize too, for boundaries I’ve pushed, not seeing things from your perspective.”

The two men fidgeted, having crossed a line they never imagined was there. Jaskier motioned for Geralt to enter the room and patted the spot on the bed next to him. There was hesitation in Geralt’s movements but he finally sat down next to Jaskier, slow to bring his legs up onto the bed. 

“I’m excited to eat your cooking again,” Jaskier picked up the plate from the bedside table and ate a spoonful of mashed potatoes. He hummed appreciatively, looking at Geralt, who wasn’t any less terrified than before. 

“Relax,” Jaskier reassured. “We said some things we really shouldn’t have, but we don’t need to suffer until the end of our days.”

Geralt didn’t relax, but his face did soften around the edges and that was enough for Jaskier. 

“Did you already eat?” Jaskier said around a mouthful of food. 

When Geralt shook his head, Jaskier gave him an almost motherly look and summoned a plate full of food from the kitchen. 

“We need our energy. Plus it’s much more enjoyable to eat with someone.”

Geralt blinked, but started eating, tentatively as if something wrong could happen at any moment. Jaskier nudged him with his arm and when the corner of Geralt’s mouth quirked up, Jaskier smiled back with pride. 

It wasn’t long before Jaskier started a conversation in between bites, ready to go back to his and Geralt’s normal. There were things to work on, but they would do it together, that much Jaskier was sure of. For now, he could just enjoy this moment and watch as Geralt ever so slowly began to relax.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn for the worst, but somehow Geralt and Jaskier find the time to become closer

The next days saw more clusters, more creatures leaving Geralt and Jaskier exhausted by the end of it. 

It had been a couple of months now with this new normal, but Jaskier wouldn’t ever be used to this. That is, he could take monsters any day. Geralt’s silence was a whole other matter. They had their friendly chats, the comfort with each other growing by the day. Yet, after all this time, Jaskier wasn’t sure he knew Geralt at all. So many questions were met with grunts and shrugs, Jaskier was now toying with the idea of reaching out to others just to gain some understanding of this brooding man.

However, the only others he could talk to were currently busy with council matters and that was adding even more stress to Jaskier’s already hectic life. There had been little from Headquarters in the past week, nothing beyond sector assignments. Something had to be happening, surely, the silence ominous as the two men waited for a word. Any word. 

When at last a message came, the men wasted no time in going to Headquarters, once again occupying a room Jaskier was now no stranger to. 

Yennefer and Triss looked nervous as they entered, as if they wanted to hide their faces from all who looked at them. It was Triss who took the stand first, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. 

“We couldn’t stop the spirit. It was too strong and we were not prepared. It has found a host.”

Jaskier’s stomach twisted. Now, their fates were almost inevitable and it was coming down to him and Geralt to save two worlds. 

“The host is a child. The princess of Cintra.”

A hush fell over the room. Jaskier could feel eyes on him, but he kept his gaze on the two women. Yennefer spared a glance in Jaskier’s direction, an unreadable expression as she didn’t look away. Her stare flicked between him and Geralt before she addressed the room.

“We’ve been able to keep her from the border for now, but she grows stronger by the day. We need even more of you to return to our world as reinforcement.”

Immediately a rush of hands went up and soon Yennefer and Triss were collecting the names of those who were ready to risk their lives. Once the meeting was over, Triss led Geralt and Jaskier into a smaller room, Yennefer eventually trailing behind. 

“You know what we’re asking of you, Geralt,” Triss addressed him as if Jaskier wasn’t there.

“Yes,” Geralt responded, his shoulders tight. 

Jaskier glanced between the three hoping for an answer. The turning of his stomach did nothing to help his frenzied mind, his confusion of being left out. This was important, but no one was telling him why. Their hushed conversation was a flame, sparking doubt Jaskier thought he was long rid of.

“I think it’s best if you hear it from Geralt,” Yennefer broke Jaskier’s spiraling mood. “Sometimes, Triss and I spare too many of the details.”

Geralt left abruptly then, leaving Jaskier no choice but to follow him with a groan. Before they could get far, Jaskier stopped Geralt grabbing onto his wrist. Damn the consequences, he needed answers.

“Why did they all stare at you, Geralt?” Jaskier jumped in. “What’s going on?”

Answering took too long. Geralt pursed his lips, a fear swarming in his eyes, though unbreaking from Jaskier’s own stare. At last, Geralt took a breath and ducked his head.

“Because I’m linked to the princess. Ever since her parents’ death, she’s been my responsibility.”

Jaskier blinked. He had heard of situations like this before but he had never been so close to one of the people involved. “Then why isn’t she here with you?”

“She’s safer in the other world,” Geralt stated as if that was the obvious answer.

“And on her own? Geralt, really. She’s a child.”

“I can’t hurt her too,” Geralt bit. 

Jaskier’s frustrations were slowly bubbling to the surface and it was becoming difficult to keep them at bay. “So, it’s better to leave her to fend for herself–alone and scared–than you making a few mistakes?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then, help me understand,” Jaskier’s voice rose with exasperation. “Don’t shut me out, Geralt. You think I haven’t been thrust into the most ridiculous situations? That I haven’t felt some of the worst fears known to man?”

Regret shone in Geralt’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“–Of course not,” Jaskier grumbled. “So easy to forget pain when it’s not your own.”

Geralt sighed, his gaze turning downward. There was that silence again, the tautness of Geralt’s jaw that showed his struggle to talk. Jaskier wanted to say something, to get Geralt to speak, but that would only lead to more silence and anger. 

Jaskier waited, picking at his fingernails, doing everything he could to distract his impatience. When he heard a sharp inhale of breath, Jaskier whipped his head to Geralt and waited. 

“I’ve never been good with people. With anyone. Not Yennefer or Triss, not my brothers, not even the man I consider my father. All I see is the pain and disappointment I’ve caused, the way I’ve tried to make things right, only to fail in the end.”

Geralt closed his eyes, his brows wrought with concern. Jaskier pursed his lips, heart wrenching in his chest, and he reached out, placing a gentle hand on Geralt’s arm. 

“I don’t want Ciri to end up like me. I don’t want her looking at me the way I’ve seen others do,” Geralt spoke, his voice just above a whisper.

Jaskier’s eyes flickered down as his hand moved to take hold of Geralt’s. When the man didn’t pull away, Jaskier ran a thumb over his knuckles, noting all the small scars that lined his skin. 

“You should give her a chance,” Jaskier began. “As she would give you. As I’ve given you.”

“What do you mean?” Geralt frowned, his golden eyes now piercing into Jaskier. 

“You haven’t disappointed me. I mean, you’ve let your emotions say some harsh things, but I don’t hate you and I certainly don’t care for you any less from when we first met,” Jaskier admitted. 

Heat rose to his face, a need to run grew, but Jaskier stood his ground and didn’t tear his gaze away. It was now Geralt who hesitated, an unusual sorrow glistening in his eyes.

“If you knew what I’ve done–” 

“–Would you do it again?” Jaskier interrupted and when Geralt gave a small shake of his head, Jaskier squeezed his hand. “Then, I don’t care about your past. I don’t care what you used to be. You’ve learned from your mistakes and you’re trying to be better, right?”

Geralt seemed reluctant to agree to this, but his grip on Jaskier’s hand tightened. 

“Once Ciri and the spirit are subdued, we are seeing her immediately,” Jaskier said with resolution. “You are bringing her here and raising her like she has always been your daughter.”

There was confusion swarming in Geralt’s eyes, but he gave a nod all the same, his face relaxing bit by bit. Jaskier hoped this meant a sign of trust and he tried to take back his hand

To his surprise, Geralt did not let go right away, his expression dropping just so. There was a moment where neither man knew what to do, but it was Geralt who cleared his throat and backed away from Jaskier. 

“Not used to…” Geralt trailed off, motioning to the empty space between himself and Jaskier. 

“Oh, I’ll ask next time,” Jaskier was quick to remedy the situation. “I can’t help but touch others in affectionate ways. Keeps me grounded and it seems to help them as well.”

“It did,” Geralt reassured. “I...wouldn’t mind if you did it again. You wouldn’t have to ask.”

Jaskier blushed at this, but still smiled at Geralt, wondering what else was hidden under his serious facade. If this little bit of positivity was enough to make Geralt happy, then Jaskier was more than willing to accommodate. 

“Let’s go home then,” Jaskier took Geralt’s hand once more. 

When a strong grip overtook his own, Jaskier followed where Geralt led. There really was nowhere else he would rather be.

* * *

Persuading Geralt to talk more about his life was more of a challenge than Jaskier was expecting. He wouldn’t say much, even with bribes, leaving Jaskier to fill in the details. 

“So, they’re not actually your brothers?”

Geralt shook his head. “We went through trials together. I suppose at the core we are, but not by blood, Melitele forbid.”

“They’re that bad?” Jaskier laughed over his cup of coffee. 

“Worse.”

“I suppose I should be lucky to have three sisters then,” Jaskier grinned. 

He set his cup down and leaned against the couch he and Geralt were seated on. Whether it was loneliness or contentment, the two were spending many of their days out in the living room, content in the presence of each other.

“I think any amount of siblings is a trial in itself,” Geralt smirked. “Are you the oldest?”

“To my parents’ relief, yes,” Jaskier scowled a bit. “I mean, I’m glad to be the oldest for my sisters’ sakes as well. At least I’ll be the one auctioned off for arranged marriages before any of them.”

Geralt frowned at this. “I thought we were well past that on the continent.”

“Well, I suppose my parents are stubborn. They love me, yes, though with courtly negotiations, there won’t be much choice,” Jaskier shrugged. 

He had come to terms with this understanding. His family would try to avoid it at all costs, but if it came down to such a primitive situation, Jaskier wanted to make sure his sisters didn’t have to endure any of that hardship. 

“Hm.” Geralt did not seem happy with this answer and Jaskier could see him plotting something in the back of his mind. 

“No assassinating my parents,” Jaskier patted Geralt’s knee. “They are good to me in every other aspect.”

This was met with another grunt, but Jaskier didn’t want either of them to dwell in this. 

“All right, how much experience have you had with raising a child?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at this. “Not...much. I can hold a baby without dropping it.”

Jaskier bit back a laugh and carded a hand through his hair. “Well, let’s say Ciri comes to live here and she comes home crying because some other children were mean to her. What would you do?”

“Strangle them.”

“Geralt, you can’t strangle children.”

“Strangle them lightly.”

It was then Jaskier realized Geralt was just teasing him and he gave the man a playful smack. “I need honesty, Geralt. For the sake of all the children in the world.”

“I suppose I would...try to comfort her. Make her favorite foods, let her tell me everything.”

“Good, that’s very good,” Jaskier nodded. “Did anyone ever do that for you?”

“I thought we were talking about Ciri,” Geralt muttered, suddenly shifting away from Jaskier. 

Making a note in the back of his mind, Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s hand. “We are, but I want to make sure you’re okay too. Being a Hunter surely hasn’t been easy and now you’ve got parenthood coming your way.”

“I’ll ask you for any help I might need then,” Geralt gave a nod. 

Jaskier smiled shyly at this, imagining summon spells at the wee hours of the morning, Geralt getting frantic over something as small as a scraped knee. 

“I’ll be here,” Jaskier replied. 

Geralt stared at him then and Jaskier let another meaning behind the words sink into him. Would he always be here? Jaskier had gotten used to this place as his home, hardly giving any thought back to his abandoned flat. The very idea of it seemed so lonely now and to not see Geralt every day was now a new fear Jaskier never had before. 

“You can always come to me whenever you need a place to stay.”

Jaskier was convinced Geralt could read minds. He let out a small awkward laugh, but when Geralt’s expression didn’t change, Jaskier started to believe him. 

“I suppose I might be here for a while until I get used to living alone again,” Jaskier admitted, trying to hide the blush that was creeping up to his face. 

“I wouldn’t mind.”

This was almost too much. Jaskier wanted to shout his feelings to the world, that he had come to see Geralt as a dear friend. His fear was the only thing holding him back and he let out a shaky breath as Geralt’s stare did not falter. 

Friendship wasn’t something to be embarrassed by, but Jaskier had jumped to conclusions too many times before. People he trusted, had given his life to, had treated him like dirt, his trust nothing more than something to be used. Jaskier knew Geralt wasn’t going to do any of those things, but he was still afraid. Hesitation would always be a familiar discomfort in his life and he tried to think of something else to say, to distract them from the way the air had stiffened. 

“Would you get a pet if Ciri wanted one?” Jaskier winced a little at this, but right now, talking about Ciri was his saving grace. 

“Of course,” Geralt shrugged. “I’ve been wanting to get a dog for a while now. I just haven’t had the time.”

“Do you think Roach would be jealous?” Jaskier teased, feeling his stuttered heartbeat coming back to its usual calm.

“She’ll get over it,” Geralt sighed. “At any rate, she’s more jealous over the people I meet than any animal.”

“Oh, then I certainly don’t want to get in the way of that,” Jaskier laughed. 

“She’ll like you,” Geralt said with certainty. 

Jaskier bit his lip and fiddled around with the buttons on his vest. Geralt had intentions of introducing him to Roach, of going back to the magical world with him. It was a relief to know that Geralt didn’t want to be rid of him so soon. 

“Where is she now?” Jaskier asked, still avoiding Geralt’s eyes. 

“Kaer Morhen. My guardian, Vesemir, is taking care of her.”

“It sounds like I’ll have a whole group to meet when we go back home,” Jaskier joked. “I suppose I’ll let my family know about you as well. I have to warn you, my sisters are insufferable.”

“I’m sure I can handle them,” Geralt pressed his leg against Jaskier’s. 

Jaskier swallowed at this, clearing his throat too loudly as he tried to calm down his raging mind. Here was Geralt, the mighty Hunter, showing a sensitive side of himself, perhaps showing Jaskier what so many others longed to see. 

In this moment, he felt special. Geralt had chosen him of all people. The warmth of Geralt’s touch was the only thought soon occupying Jaskier’s mind and he was tempted to reach out, to pull Geralt in close. 

His body betrayed him and Jaskier sat with his hands in his lap, steadying his breathing. 

“I’ll get started on cooking,” Geralt interrupted Jaskier’s thoughts. 

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier blinked, watching as Geralt got to his feet. 

Several dishes floated themselves into the kitchen and Geralt followed, but not before letting his hand run across Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier shivered and stared at the man’s retreating back, dying to know what expression his face held. 

It could’ve just been a friendly touch. Surely that was all it was. Jaskier attempted to convince himself of this, occasionally glancing at Geralt in the other room. When Geralt’s gaze met his own and didn’t break, Jaskier knew all was a lost cause. 

There was something there, something that sat on the edge of terrifying and exciting. Jaskier wasn’t sure if he was ready, but then again, who ever was?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of Injuries and Longing

“I’m starting to hate the shipyards,” Jaskier muttered, tugging the collar of his coat closer to his ears.

The two men had been there multiple times since the first incident, each monster worse than the last and there was no sign of infestations slowing down. After Jaskier had almost been dragged into the water, his uncertainty of the place had only grown, dark thoughts entering his mind as soon as he could see that awful warehouse. 

“Just stay next to me,” Geralt reassured.

Jaskier grumbled as they made their way to the docks, igniting his Trace as soon as he could. If they could finish this quickly, that would be a miracle in itself. 

“You should go,” Geralt muttered, his hand gripping tight to Jaskier’s wrist.

“What?” Jaskier frowned. “I haven’t even located the monster yet.”

Geralt shook his head and pushed Jaskier behind him. “I don’t need a Trace for that. I’ve felt this before and it’s all too familiar.”

“I’m here to help you, Geralt,” Jaskier began to argue.

Then, the sky went dark, a shadow blocking out the sun as it loomed over the two men. Jaskier felt his stomach twist as he stared at the towers of legs that could easily crush him with one hit. He had heard about these types of monsters, the ones made of mountain rock, but he thought they were long gone. With a body like a bull, the monster turned its enormous head to stare at them, eyes glowing with flames that matched Jaskier’s own. The monster stamped a hoof, the ground trembling and debris flying through the air as it opened its mouth. 

“Get out of here!” Geralt shouted over the monster's screams and shoved Jaskier back with a shot of magic. 

Jaskier scrambled away, but his concern for Geralt stopped him as soon as he was covered by a stack of crates. The situation could sour fast and Jaskier couldn’t leave Geralt vulnerable. There had to be something more he could do.

Watching over the top of the crates, Jaskier’s stomach twisted every which way as Geralt tackled the monster head-on. His weapons seemed to do little damage, only agitating the monster more.

Jaskier could hear Geralt yelling at the monster, shooting spells, but he couldn’t do this forever. Inhaling shapely, Jaskier held out his hand, sending a beam at the monster. It reared its head toward Jaskier and snarled before it charged.

Swearing to himself, Jaskier scrambled off the crates and ran towards the next big thing. The steps of the monster thundered behind him and when a leg came dangerously close to him, the sheer force knocked Jaskier off his feet. The creature lifted another leg, ready to come crashing down, but before it could, it let out a piercing screech and Jaskier barely caught the blur that was Geralt. 

Geralt had found a weak point and continued to stab at the monster’s neck, dark blood spraying everywhere. Jaskier jumped to his feet and ran some more, glancing over his shoulder while doing so.

Geralt seemed to have the upper hand but when a pincer-like limb came hurtling towards him, Jaskier shouted in horror. It had hit Geralt but not before the man landed a fatal blow.

The monster and Geralt fell together, shockwaves bursting through the ground, creating jagged hills of rock and dirt. Jaskier ducked to shield himself and when the last of the debris rained down on him, he slowly got to his feet. The dust was beginning to settle around the creature, but there was no sign of Geralt. With fear rising in his chest, Jaskier rushed over, calling out Geralt’s name. 

There was nothing at first. Jaskier panicked, his mind convincing him that Geralt got crushed under the monster. As he tried to fight the thought away, a low groan caught his ear and Jaskier almost cried as he followed the sound. Geralt lay on the ground, his weapons neatly by his side as if he had meticulously planned this all along. 

“Where did it get you?” Jaskier grabbed hold of Geralt’s shoulders. 

“Arm, I think,” Geralt grunted, his breathing long and drawn-out. 

Guiding Geralt to his feet, Jaskier threw Geralt’s uninjured arm around his shoulder before forming a portal in front of them. Once in the safety of their flat, Jaskier laid Geralt on the ground, immediately pulling his upper layers off of him, his hands trembling. There was a deep gash on Geralt’s arm, blackened veins trailing from the wound, and Geralt hissed in pain when Jaskier jostled his arm some more. 

“We need a Healer,” Geralt said through gritted teeth. 

There was no time for that. The poison was spreading and Jaskier took hold of Geralt’s arm, screwing his eyes shut. He began muttering a spell, focusing his energy on the wounds. His hand started to burn, but Jaskier refused to pull away. He kept repeating the spell, the words no longer making sense, until he heard Geralt clear his throat. 

Snapping his eyes open, Jaskier stared the wound first and saw there was no mark on the skin, as if Geralt hadn’t been hit by anything at all. Jaskier let out a relieved laugh, sinking to the floor with exhaustion hitting him in waves. 

“I thought you said you were too restless to be a Healer,” Geralt commented from his spot. 

Jaskier hummed, carding a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t mean I never had any training. Oxenfurt was more than accommodating to my interests.”

“Hm. Well, thank you.”

Craning his head to the side, Jaskier smiled at Geralt, his heart fluttering when he got a small one in return. When Geralt expressed himself, it was truly something else and it stirred Jaskier’s soul. Now with the immediate threat gone, Jaskier wanted nothing more than a relaxing evening for himself and Geralt.

“Alright, into the tub with you,” Jaskier groaned as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. 

“Jaskier, just rest. I can take care of myself.”

“No, I insist,” Jaskier waved. “I’ve gotten my second wind now.”

Geralt pursed his lips as Jaskier got to his feet, then helping Geralt up and leading him towards the bathroom. “You certainly are stubborn, aren’t you?”

“One of my best traits,” Jaskier grinned. 

Geralt smirked, sitting on the edge of the tub as Jaskier turned on the faucet. Soon, the room was filled with humid air and strong scents, Jaskier picking up bottles and putting them back until he found the ones he was searching for, a few drops from each poured into the rising water. 

Jaskier kept his back turned, distracting himself in the different oils and herbs until he heard the small splash and he looked over his shoulder. 

Geralt sank into the water, the lines on his face smoothing out as he closed his eyes, an appreciative rumble coming from his chest. With a smile, Jaskier turned off the water and pulled up a small stool, sitting next to the tub as he organized bottles next to it. 

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate this,” Geralt spoke, eyes still closed. “But I can wash my own hair.”

“Oh, shush,” Jaskier gave his shoulder a light smack with the back of his hand. “Having someone else wash your hair feels nice. Believe me.”

Before Geralt could retort, Jaskier scooped some water in his hands and poured it over Geralt’s head. The man shook his hair, water droplets flying everywhere, but Jaskier was unperturbed, continuing to wet Geralt’s head. 

Once satisfied, Jaskier put shampoo in his palm, then rubbing his hands together before reaching over and scrubbing at Geralt’s scalp. The man leaned forward a bit, but there was no complaint as Jaskier made sure every inch was covered. 

“Do you want me to rinse it or do you prefer to do it yourself?” Jaskier asked as he wiped his hands on a small towel. 

Without a reply, Geralt dunked himself under the water, lingering under the surface before he sat back up, wiping the water and specks of suds from his face. Jaskier was back on him in an instant, now running some scented oil through his hair. 

It was a light fragrant, almost unnoticeable amongst everything else besides a hint of rose. Jaskier’s fingers were gentle as they undid the last of the tangles and Geralt let out a small hum, the corner of his mouth quirking just a little.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Jaskier grinned with pride. “Sometimes, it’s nice to be taken care of. Even with something as simple as this.”

“I’ll remember to do the same for you then,” Geralt replied. 

Jaskier froze, his eyes widening for just a moment. Surely Geralt meant it in a teasing way, but with how the man’s shoulders hunched up, Jaskier was left with nothing more than a blush on his face. 

“You don’t need to,” Jaskier tried to pass over the silence. “I’m alright.”

“No, I’d like to.”

Geralt had turned a bit to get a better look at Jaskier and there in his gaze, his almost neutral expression, Jaskier could see a sincerity and softness unlike anything he had seen in Geralt before.

The past few months had been a whirlwind for them, having gone from complete strangers to now, where Jaskier thought of Geralt as something more, something that spoke beyond a simple crush.

Hesitation burrowed in his mind, but Jaskier fought past that and placed his hand on the edge of the tub. Geralt hadn’t moved, still staring endlessly at him and Jaskier could only let himself be dragged in. Before he could stop himself, Jaskier shot forward, crashing his lips against Geralt’s. There was a slight hitch of breath from the other man, but he was quick to return the embrace, hand reaching up and fingers tangling in Jaskier’s hair. 

They stayed that way for what felt like hours to Jaskier and when they pulled apart, Jaskier didn’t dare open his eyes. He feared this was all a dream, that he would wake up and find that Geralt didn’t feel the same towards him. 

When the hand in his hair moved to his face, Jaskier then felt a warm pressure against his forehead. His eyes fluttered open and there was Geralt, pressing their foreheads together, though his eyes remained closed. His breathing was calm, even, and Jaskier wanted nothing more than to pull him in for another kiss. 

So, Jaskier did just that. Geralt was more than ready to kiss him back, the water sloshing as he readjusted himself so he could grab Jaskier’s face with both hands. Jaskier could think of nothing else beyond grabbing onto Geralt’s hands and when their kiss ended, they still held onto each other as they gazed into each other’s eyes. 

“I should...get you a towel,” came out of Jaskier’s mouth and he flushed at his silly comment. 

“I’ll make dinner after I’m dressed then,” Geralt replied. 

Jaskier almost laughed at how domestic they sounded. He handed Geralt his towel, averting his gaze as Geralt got out of the tub. When he was able to look at the man at last, he was already in the hallway, looking back at Jaskier. 

“Thank you,” Geralt said before he disappeared down the hallway. 

With every part of him on fire, lips tingling, Jaskier almost threw himself into the tub. Today had been a whirlwind and he still couldn’t wrap his mind around some of it. With a small laugh, Jaskier cleaned up the bathroom and by the time he went into the kitchen, Geralt was there, the kitchen abuzz with magic. 

Even in his more lax clothes, Geralt still had a sense of formality about him and Jaskier couldn’t help the poetry that sprouted in his mind. He supposed no other Tracer had been allowed the view he had been given and he wasn’t about to take that for granted. 

When a cup of tea floated down onto the table in front of him, Jaskier looked over at Geralt, their silent exchange saying much more than words could. Jaskier’s heart skipped a beat and he hoped Geralt hadn’t noticed the blush that had risen to his face. 

For now, they could rest and simply appreciate the fact that they were alive and here together.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A monster nearly breaks Jaskier which in turn sends Geralt and Jaskier spiraling into each other
> 
> (Explicit Chapter, tags are in the note at the beginning)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter alone: Magic Sex, Anal, Fingering, Rough Sex, Table Sex

Days had passed since the incident in the bathroom. 

Jaskier didn’t know what else to call it, his emotions in a perpetual loop. When he would find his strength to speak, he would lose his voice the instant Geralt laid eyes on him. Then, Geralt would take Jaskier’s silence in stride, placing a kiss on Jaskier’s forehead or cheek. 

Perhaps words weren’t needed, but Jaskier still wanted that confirmation, to just be sure. Too many times in the past he had assumed off of gestures alone and ended up hurt, consumed with feelings of doubt. 

Why he had to be thinking about this as they were on assignment was beyond Jaskier. There was the threat of death at hand and yet it did nothing to sway him from his thoughts of his relationship with Geralt. 

It was only when Geralt nudged him that Jaskier snapped to attention and focused on his surroundings, igniting his Trace. There was nothing at first, the blue flames from his eyes flaring softly. Then, there was a spark, an invisible blow to Jaskier’s stomach. The sky boomed overhead and Geralt shot off, somehow spotting the monster before Jaskier.

Gasping for breath, Jaskier fell back against a building, unable to call for help as Geralt fought mercilessly. Jaskier was consumed by a burning underneath his skin and he collapsed to his knees. He couldn’t hear anything, his vision going blurry as his limbs refused to work, his thoughts becoming hazy.

Pain tore through his body and he screwed his eyes shut, hands grabbing at the cobblestone street underneath him. He could barely keep himself on his hands and knees as a silent scream ripped out of him. Geralt’s voice was so far away, so distant and Jaskier watched as the world went dark. 

Suddenly, there were strong hands on him, shaking him awake, but Jaskier was tired, so tired. He could only let out a small whimper as another jolt of pain caused him to curl in on himself. Tears ran down his face and he just wanted this to stop. 

The pain was unending, his body trembling under the stress. Then, there was nothing. Jaskier snapped his eyes open and Geralt was staring down at him, fear swimming in those golden eyes. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt ran a hand down his face. 

Jaskier tried to speak but his voice caught in his throat and he began coughing. 

“Easy, easy,” Geralt helped him through his coughs. 

When at last everything subsided, Jaskier took a shaky breath in. “What–what happened?”

“It was feeding off of you,” Geralt explained. “The negative feelings hidden inside of you.”

Jaskier almost wanted to laugh. After years of trying to heal it seemed that he was still just as broken inside as ever. 

“I’m sorry,” Geralt held Jaskier close. “I shouldn’t have let it get so close to you.”

“Not your fault,” Jaskier held onto Geralt’s arm. “It’s not as if monsters are predictable.”

Geralt grunted and Jaskier knew he was disagreeing, but both were simply relieved that the other was okay. 

“Can you stand?” Geralt eased his grip on Jaskier. 

Taking a breath, Jaskier attempted to get to his feet and after a slight wobble, he was able to stand with little help from Geralt. The journey home was silent, Jaskier wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed next to Geralt. 

When at last they made it into the flat, Geralt grabbed Jaskier and crashed their lips together. Jaskier pulled away with surprise, but as Geralt’s face began to fall, Jaskier was quick to reassure him with a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

“Just wasn’t expecting that,” Jaskier murmured, his fingers toying at Geralt’s collar.

“I’m not sure where it came from,” Geralt admitted. “I think the thought of losing you scared me.”

Jaskier swallowed as he looked deep into Geralt’s eyes. There was everything he wanted and from the man he never expected. A flame ignited inside of Jaskier, desperation consuming all of him. Jaskier threw his arms around Geralt’s shoulders, holding their faces close as their breaths mingled together.

“Geralt, I need you,” Jaskier whispered. 

Their lips met again, but this time, it was rougher, hungrier, as their tongues explored each other’s mouths. Jaskier tangled his hands in Geralt’s hair, pressing his chest up against Geralt’s. There was a low rumble from Geralt as he held Jaskier impossibly closer. With hardly any space between them, Geralt’s thigh pressed up against Jaskier’s growing erection and Jaskier moaned into the kiss. 

His eagerness only grew and he let Geralt lead them into the kitchen where Jaskier ended up with his back hitting the edge of the table. He tore at Geralt’s suitcoat, finding his own already being ripped from his body. When Geralt’s mouth trailed down to Jaskier’s neck, Jaskier’s breath hitched as Geralt bit down. He pushed his leg up to tease Geralt as the man had done before and it was just enough to spur Geralt on.

A low growl left Geralt as he quickly flipped Jaskier over until he was bent over the table. He reached around Jaskier, unbuckling his belt and buttons, then pulling Jaskier’s lower layers down past his knees. Geralt flicked his wrist and Jaskier gasped, his hole leaking with lubrication. 

Two fingers spread him open and Jaskier scrambled for purchase on the smooth table. He pressed his forehead against the cold surface, biting his lip as he forced down his moans. 

“Let me hear you, Jaskier,” Geralt curled his fingers just so and Jaskier’s breath stuttered. 

Not wanting to deny himself or Geralt, Jaskier let out a low moan then as a third finger was added. His desire for Geralt only grew and he threw his head back, crying Geralt’s name each time his fingers hit Jaskier’s prostate. 

Geralt ran his free hand through Jaskier’s hair, tugging a little and earning small gasps in return. He leaned over, pressing his chest flush with Jaskier’s back, nibbling at Jaskier’s ear before whispering, “Are you ready for me?”

“Fuck, I’ve been ready since the day I first saw you,” Jaskier blurted, a whine leaving him as Geralt nudged his collar to the side with his nose and bit down at the crook of Jaskier’s neck. 

With a pleased hum, Geralt withdrew his fingers, making Jaskier crumble at the loss. It was only hearing Geralt undo his own trousers that ignited his excitement all over again and he shook with anticipation. 

The press of Geralt’s cock at his hole sent Jaskier reeling and he tried to push back but Geralt had taken a firm hold of his hips. 

“Be patient,” Geralt murmured. 

Jaskier let out a pitiful sigh, hanging his head as he braced himself for the oncoming fullness. Geralt pushed in slow and gentle, whispering sweet nothings as Jaskier’s legs grew weak and paused once he was all the way inside Jaskier. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier began to scold, but then Geralt pulled himself out to the tip before snapping his hips back against Jaskier’s. 

The shout that left Jaskier surely shook the walls around them and Geralt’s name left his lips in a heavy groan. Geralt began to rhythmically move his hips, hands moving to Jaskier’s vest as he undid the buttons. Jaskier’s dress shirt was not so lucky, Geralt ripping it open and sending buttons flying. One hand spread itself across Jaskier’s stomach while the other played with his nipples, squeezing and flicking them. Each time Jaskier’s head fell back, Geralt’s mouth was there to mark his neck and the parts of his shoulders now exposed. 

Geralt’s thrusts were precise, hitting Jaskier in the spot that drove him mad over and over. Jaskier wanted to touch himself, but with Geralt pressing much of his weight down, Jaskier could only brace his arms just enough off the table so his cock wasn’t trapped. 

As if sensing Jaskier’s need, Geralt let one of his hands trail down, stroking Jaskier’s cock in time with his thrusts. Jaskier couldn’t help himself then, his cries growing louder as Geralt sped up. 

The room was charged with raw emotion and Jaskier came with a shout, spilling over his stomach and onto the table. With a few thrusts, Geralt followed after, hiding his moan with a bite on Jaskier’s shoulder. 

The two men remained as they were, panting and still as the realization of their actions began to hit them. Geralt pulled out of Jaskier with a small groan, taking a step back as Jaskier turned to him, using the table to brace himself. 

Still exposed to each other, neither man knew where to start, both stumbling over their words. 

“We–”

“I–”

Both let out a small, awkward laugh and Jaskier thought it best to pull up his trousers as Geralt tucked himself away. 

“Let’s take a bath,” Jaskier spoke at last, holding a hand out to Geralt. 

To his relief, Geralt took his hand and the two walked in silence to the bathroom. The quiet atmosphere was broken by the running water, yet all Geralt and Jaskier could do was exchange shy glances. 

Jaskier undressed and climbed into the tub first, then expectantly looking at Geralt when the man hesitated. Seeing he wasn’t getting out of this one, Geralt was quick to take off his clothes then figuring out how to fit in with Jaskier. 

With Jaskier’s help, Geralt was soon between his legs, his back against Jaskier’s chest. 

“This is nice,” Jaskier commented as he wrapped his arms around Geralt. 

Unable to help himself, Jaskier placed a small kiss on Geralt’s temple. This made Geralt look at him and Jaskier hid his embarrassment by clearing his throat. 

“What does this make us?” Jaskier asked shyly. 

“Whatever you would like us to be,” Geralt replied. “Partners, I suppose.”

“Just not in the way others might expect,” Jaskier grinned, letting his fingers sweep through the water. 

The two men fell silent, the occasional drip from the faucet the only sound in the room. Jaskier could feel tiredness creep up on him and he nuzzled at Geralt’s head, wanting to memorize his touch, his scent, anything he could pick up on. 

“I want you to stay, Jaskier,” Geralt turned his head, so his forehead was pressed against Jaskier’s jaw. 

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Jaskier grinned, letting a hand cup Geralt’s face. 

Another kiss was shared between the two men, soft and holding all the love in the world. When the kiss ended, they smiled at each other, settling into their tight embrace. 

They only left the tub once the water had turned cold, toweling each other off and small kisses shared until they laid down in the large bed in Geralt’s bedroom. 

The two tangled into each other under the covers, embracing the feeling of skin against skin. With Geralt’s head tucked under his chin, Jaskier soon began to drift off, holding Geralt close to his heart.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Destiny deals a heavy hand

When the emergency meeting came, Jaskier assumed the worst. 

Yennefer and Triss were beaten down, haggard, as they addressed the group that had thinned out to just a handful. There were no options left now and Jaskier feared what this meant for Geralt. When all eyes had landed on the two of them, a few murmurs blaming Geralt for the inevitable danger, Geralt had fled from the room. 

After cussing out the crowd, Jaskier trailed after Geralt, finding him in the lobby.

“I know she’s my responsibility,” Geralt paced back and forth, his hands in tight fists. “I know I’m to blame. If they’re going to be this way, I’ll handle the damn mess by myself.”

“You know you can’t do that, Geralt,” Jaskier chided. “They’re going to help you regardless of their feelings. We all are and–”

“–No!” Geralt barked. “Not you, Jaskier. I need you to stay in the safehouse.”

Jaskier blinked before his mouth dropped open. “What do you mean? I’m perfectly capable of taking on whatever’s coming our way. I’m not some useless thing to be shoved to the side.”

“It’s not that,” Geralt sighed, running a hand down his face. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

At this, Jaskier softened. If only everyone else could see how much Geralt cared, how full his heart was. Maybe then, they wouldn’t jump to such harsh conclusions. 

Jaskier took Geralt’s face into his hands, waiting until amber eyes met his own. “With or without your help, something will always happen to me. At any rate, Geralt, the more of us there are, the easier it’ll be to help Ciri.”

Geralt was hesitant to nod, only doing so as if to appease Jaskier. It was enough and Jaskier placed a small kiss on Geralt’s cheek. It was tempting to pull Geralt away, run from all of this, but Jaskier wasn’t going to let selfishness overtake the importance of others’ lives.

“I suppose we’d better go back,” Jaskier muttered, reluctant to end their moment of peace. “It’s the end of the world after all.”

There was a small laugh from Geralt and he hugged Jaskier with strong arms, the two men easily finding their place within each other. Jaskier sighed as he closed his eyes, the worry in his mind fading for a little while.

When the two made their way back to the auditorium, they did so hand in hand, which somehow did not get them any surprised looks. Jaskier blushed when Yennefer gave him a sincere smile, but then again he and Geralt certainly weren’t going to hide their relationship forever. It was good to have this acceptance and it gave Jaskier a renewed sense of balance.

As the meeting started again, various maps and plans floated into empty spaces, magic pins and markers setting up the defense lines. The spirit would be far from civilization, but that was the only saving grace. Even with all the fighters they had, there was a looming sense of dread and everyone was going to be pushed to their limits. Optimism was running short between the scarce reassurances and meticulous planning. 

“We’ll set up camp here,” Triss pointed to a secluded forest. “If reports are still correct, the spirit will reach the barrier tomorrow. However, anything could happen.”

There were murmurs, nods of agreement as some began to portal to the fated battlegrounds while others continued to plan amongst themselves. Jaskier watched from afar as Geralt talked with Triss and Yen, intense looks on all three faces. 

When Geralt came over to him, Jaskier let his gaze speak for him and followed Geralt through a portal. 

Tents were filling the forest, small and hardly taking up any space as they appeared to only have just enough space for one person. Amongst the few fires being lit, humans and fauna were practicing their spells, drawing out their strategies with wisps of magic. If it wasn’t for the inevitable, Jaskier could’ve pretended this was nothing more than an annual meeting of the magic world.

Once magic had set up Jaskier and Geralt’s tent, Jaskier followed Geralt inside and took off his hat, running his hand through his hair as he stood up straight.

Inside the tent there lay a large bed in the center, a table on a platform a few steps behind it. There was a small wood stove off to the side, coals red and bright as a small pot on top cooked away.

Geralt helped Jaskier take his coat off, the two immediately loosening their ties and unbuttoning their vests. The silence was heavy, lingering, and Jaskier watched Geralt as he hung their coats up.

“What are you thinking?” Jaskier asked as Geralt’s movements paused.

He was faced away from Jaskier, hands in his pockets. He was putting on a face, hiding his fears behind a stoic presence. He didn’t have to, not around Jaskier, but old habits died hard.

“I don’t know,” came a small answer, shallowness tinging the edges. 

Getting to his feet, Jaskier hugged Geralt from behind and pressed a kiss into his shoulder. 

“Whatever you choose, I’m sure it’ll turn out to be the right decision.”

“Even if it means killing her?” Geralt tensed up. 

“If that is what must be done,” Jaskier found his voice. 

No doubt everyone would do what they could to prevent such a thing from happening, but it was still a possibility nonetheless. As if waiting for the darker turn of conversation, thunder boomed overhead followed by heavy rain falling on the roof of their tent. 

“I can’t change the past, but now more than ever, I regret running,” Geralt started again, his voice barely heard over the cacophony of rain and thunder. “If we survive, if she lives, what if she doesn’t want me?”

The pain in Geralt’s voice tore at Jaskier. Yes, he had made mistakes, but now he was willing to amend them and maybe it was too late. 

“You can’t force her to choose you,” Jaskier spoke honestly, keeping his arms tight around Geralt. “All you can do is ask for her forgiveness and let her decide.”

Geralt’s shoulders remained tight and Jaskier withdrew his arms. Rubbing Geralt’s shoulders, Jaskier mulled over what to say next, if there was anything he could say at all. Geralt turned in Jaskier’s hold and pulled him in for a kiss, the two allowing the world around them to fade away. 

All was quiet–beyond the storm–when their embrace ended and they prepared their dinner in a comfortable silence, laced with lingering touches and small kisses. Instead of eating at the table, they sat on the ground near the wood stove, sides pressed together. 

When their plates were clear, Jaskier laid his head on Geralt’s shoulder, a small sigh leaving him. The arm that snaked around him provided a small comfort, but Jaskier was exhausted. He could only imagine the state Geralt was in. There was more to be said and yet nothing at all, their gazes far away as they memorized the feeling of each other. 

It was late when the two went to bed, huddled close as the storm raged on. 

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Geralt asked, cupping Jaskier’s face with a hand. 

Jaskier’s eyes stung, his heart thrummed in his chest. If only none of this was happening, if only they could be safe and sound, away from the world’s threats..

“I just want to hold you,” Jaskier whispered. 

Pulling Geralt close, Jaskier laid his head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. They were going to come out of this alive. Ciri would be saved and all would be well. Yet, there was still a heaviness in Jaskier’s heart, a darkness he could not fight. Screwing his eyes shut, Jaskier curled into Geralt and inhaled sharply as Geralt held him tight. 

All they could do for tonight was love each other and wait for the inevitability of the morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Destiny is calling and it's the end of the world

It was too quiet.

The very air was holding its breath as every Hunter, Mage, and Tracer stood at the barrier. If they failed, the spirit would have the world destroyed in an instant. The pressure was bearing down and some looked as if they were ready to run.

The sky darkened and Jaskier moved closer to Geralt, wishing he could be as brave as the man looked now. Then again, no one in this moment was truly brave. Fear ran through everyone’s hearts, but the desire to protect the two worlds was stronger, keeping them firm in their resolutions.

A loud boom filled the air and there were several noises of surprise, many pointing at the barrier. Just on the other side was the spirit, a shapeless form barely visible through the magical waves. There was a muffled scream before the spirit charged at the barrier. 

The barrier held strong through the first impacts, but that did not last long as the spirit continued its onslaught. With the spirit throwing all its weight against it, the barrier was weakening by the second, cracks spreading with each impact. Mages were casting every spell they could, but it was a losing battle as the creature kept fighting. Others could only look on in fear as the crackling grew louder and louder. 

With one final hit, the magic was broken, sending shards flying through the air that dissolved on impact. It took a moment to recover, but now everyone could see what it was they were facing. 

The spirit was larger than the monster that had poisoned Geralt, larger than anything known to history. There was a canine-like face, jaw wide and thrashing with sharpened teeth as it reared its head. Each paw had talon claws that dug at the earth, attached to spindly legs that met at a torso that was almost nothing but ribs. Swarms of monsters poured out from the portal, following the spirit’s every snarl.

How the spirit had transformed into this was beyond anything Jaskier could imagine. He could hear the tormented screams of Ciri mixed with the bloodlust howls of the spirit. It tore at his very soul and he held onto Geralt’s arm for support. 

The first spells went flying and Geralt gave Jaskier a harsh kiss before running off with the other Hunters. Jaskier cast his own magic, watching with fear in his heart as the spells seemed to merely deflect off the spirit. 

Hunters fought through the hordes, sending bodies flying, but the spirit lumbered on, crushing everything in its path. It screamed curses at the world, showed no mercy in its onslaught. So many were putting in their full effort, but nothing was slowing the spirit down. 

Jaskier’s hope was fading by the second and his mind scrambled for something else, for some other way to incapacitate the spirit. A tree came crashing down beside him sending Jaskier flying, knocking the wind out of him. As he tried to collect himself, a hand grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. 

“Jaskier, leave! Now!” Geralt shouted at him over the chaos. “She’s too strong!”

Jaskier opened his mouth to argue, but as he looked up at the spirit, a single thought entered his mind.

“I have to talk to her. I have to reach her,” Jaskier spoke in a hushed tone.

The plan was foolish, dangerous, but Jaskier could see no other way. Ciri was lost within the spirit and no amount of magic or forged weaponry was going to bring her out.

“Jaskier, whatever you’re thinking, forget it,” Geralt growled, taking hold of his wrist. “We have to destroy her. There’s no other choice.” 

Instead of pulling his arm free, Jaskier moved closer to Geralt until he could place a hand on the other man’s face.

“Geralt, trust me on this one.”

“I can’t lose you too,” Geralt gripped tight onto Jaskier. 

Geralt’s stare was enough to make Jaskier falter and he pulled Geralt close, wrapping his arms around his neck. 

“I love you,” he whispered into Geralt’s ear. 

Breaking the hug, Jaskier held onto Geralt’s face, the world fading away as they stared at each other. With a resolved breath, Jaskier crashed his and Geralt’s mouths together before he jerked away. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier said as he threw out a hand.

Geralt went flying back and Jaskier took off sprinting towards the center of the chaos. Monsters came at him, but Hunters were already at Jaskier’s aid, forging a path for him. Amongst all the fighting, Jaskier somehow got out with just a scratch and nearly crashed into Yennefer as she shot another ball of energy at the lumbering spirit with the other mages. 

“Jaskier, what are you doing?!” Yennefer yelled at him as he rushed past her. 

“I’m going to help Ciri!” Jaskier shouted over his shoulder. 

Dodging falling rock, stumbling over the rumbles of the earth, Jaskier kept the creature in his line of sight, his brain scrambling for the quickest path. When he levitated into the air, Jaskier spun to see Yennefer holding him aloft. 

“Hurry! I can’t hold this for long!”

With a nod, Jaskier used Yennefer’s magic to help him get close to Ciri and he floated alongside the creature, calling out to the girl inside of it. 

“Ciri, listen to me,” Jaskier shouted. “I’m here to help you. You have to fight back, you can’t let this spirit control you!”

The creature whipped its head to Jaskier, teeth bared and dripping with black liquid. 

“It’s too late,” the spirit growled, a mixture of ancient voices with Ciri’s high tones.

“It’s never too late!” Jaskier screamed back.

The creature continued on, swiping at Jaskier, but Jaskier was quicker and his determination only grew.

“Ciri,” Jaskier called out to her. “Please.”

“No,” the spirit bellowed as it turned another part of the forest into rubble. “No more words.”

“I know you’ve been hurt,” Jaskier fought. “I know the world has turned its back to you.” 

“They must pay.”

Jaskier’s heart broke and he shook his head, trying to keep his own darkness at bay. “Not this way, Ciri.” 

He reached out, trying to touch the muzzle of the spirit, but it was quick to jerk away, snapping at Jaskier. 

“I know you’re scared,” Jaskier shouted at the spirit. “You’re confused and nothing is making sense. Feel that anger, Ciri. Feel that sorrow, but don’t let it consume you.”

The wind picked up around him and time was running out. Summoning all his energy, Jaskier held out his hand, attempting to shoot magic through the force that had surrounded the spirit. The spirit howled and for a moment, Jaskier caught a glimpse of Ciri trapped inside. 

Gritting his teeth, Jaskier reached out, past the pain, the resistance, until he was able to take hold of Ciri’s hand. The wind lashed around him, the world going white before he was met with complete silence. 

Snapping open his eyes, Jaskier stared at the meadow surrounding him and he turned in a small circle. The sun was bright and on the horizon was a mountain range, a large lake sitting at its base.

He was back in the magical world, small specks of light hovering above the flowers in the meadow. 

“I miss my parents,” a small voice caught his attention. 

Sitting on the ground with her knees pulled up to her chest was Ciri, just a child and nothing more as tears trailed down her face. Letting out a small breath, Jaskier sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her when she buried her face into his shoulder. 

“Why?” Ciri sobbed. “Why me? Why them?”

“I don’t know,” Jaskier admitted, his voice just above a whisper.

Ciri cried and cried and Jaskier let her do so, his own trail of tears falling down his face. While his own pain hadn’t been easy, he would give anything to take all of Ciri’s away. A girl so young didn’t deserve to have the weight of the world on her shoulders. 

When Ciri’s tears slowed, she pulled away with small hiccups, wiping her tears away with her sleeve.

“Does Geralt truly not want me?” 

Jaskier’s heart shattered at this and he pulled Ciri in for another hug. “No, of course he wants you. He’s just scared. He didn’t want to hurt you and he did what he thought was best.”

“Geralt of Rivia, scared?” Ciri laughed a little followed by a sniff.

“I know,” Jaskier grinned. “As much of a stone wall that he is, he feels just as much as the rest of us.”

“What else is he like?” Ciri asked, gazing up at Jaskier with what could be described as awe. 

Jaskier let a wide grin spread on his face and he looked up at the clouds, figuring out where to start. 

“He’s everything you wouldn’t expect him to be,” Jaskier began. “He’s kind and loving, gentle and sincere. I will admit it takes some time to get him to talk, but once he opens up, he’s a whole other man. I know you will like him.”

Ciri took this with a small nod and then glanced over her shoulder. “I trust you.”

Following Ciri’s gaze, Jaskier was met by the sight of Geralt standing a few yards behind them, his coat moving with the wind. Jaskier jumped to his feet, helping Ciri up as well before he bounded over, Ciri in tow. Jaskier hugged Geralt tight, tears of joy spilling out of him as Geralt held him close. When their embrace broke, Jaskier ushered Ciri forward. 

She stared up at Geralt, her eyes shining with hesitation before she threw herself onto Geralt. At first, Geralt stood frozen, but his arms slowly moved down and he embraced her with all of his heart. 

Jaskier grew even more emotional over the scene, a mix between a sob and a laugh leaving him. When Ciri reached out for him, Jaskier didn’t take a second thought before joining the two, sighing as Geralt pressed a small kiss to his forehead. 

It was then he realized all three of them were crying, Geralt the silent one, Ciri giggling through her tears. 

As the scene faded back to the non-magical world, Jaskier held his breath, a sight of destruction before him. The forest was in ruins, but the mages were quickly setting out fires, while others were aiding those who had been injured. It was a harrowing moment, but to see everyone working together was also a symbol of hope. 

There was a small noise from Ciri and Jaskier could see the hurt on her face. She looked up at him and Geralt before her expression changed to one of determination. 

“I think I still have a bit of the spirit left in me,” Ciri pursed her lips.

Crouching down, Ciri set her hands on the earth and closed her eyes, muttered words leaving her mouth. Jaskier jumped back as grass sprouted from under her hands and began to spread. Trees grew in an instant, the fires faded, and the forest was becoming lush and green, a blanket spreading over the ground. 

Those injured, or worse, were getting to their feet, a moment’s disbelief before friends were hugging each other, couples embracing. 

With a heavy exhale, Ciri drew her hands away from the ground and got to her feet. She stumbled at first, but upon seeing the nature blossom around her, the happiness of those she saved, she could only smile.

She held tight onto Geralt and Jaskier, an admiration in her eyes that took Jaskier’s breath away. He glanced over at Geralt, who had become a statue, still scared, still unsure. 

Pulling Jaskier with her, Ciri brought the three of them back into a hug and it was then that Geralt shifted, a smile growing on his face.

In this moment they were nothing less than perfect, a family of love and trust. There would be many more trials before them, but they would have each other, ready to take on the world.

**Author's Note:**

> well here we go. there's going to be one chapter of smut and i'll put it in the tags when that chapter will be (when i figure out that spot lmaooo)
> 
> ngl this was 100% inspired by joey's character in War of the Worlds....
> 
> also go send my friend [erebones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/erebones) some love for beta-ing this for me!!! <333
> 
> -
> 
> [Find me on the Blue Hellsite](http://fromkaermorhentolettenhove.tumblr.com)


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